Among the wonders of the plains are the huge rocks and bluffs known as the “Buttes,” which often rise from comparatively level ground, and in detached spots. Seen in the gloaming, their often grotesque forms appear weird and unearthly, and the effect is increased by the fact that all around is silent and desolate, and their mocking echoes to the snorting iron horse are the only sounds that are heard. Some of these rock‐masses are columnar, and others pyramidal, in form; some assume the shape of heads, human or otherwise. Now they rise in huge walls, with as wonderful colouring as have the cliffs at Alum Bay in the Isle of Wight; they are often several hundred feet in height. One, particularly noted by the writer, had almost the exact form of an enormous dog seated on its haunches. As the train approaches the confines of Mormondom some specially grand scenery is met and passed. The stern and rugged ravine known as Echo Cañon(9) is shut in by abrupt and almost perpendicular sandstone and conglomerate cliffs, with many a crag standing sentinel‐like, and rising high towards heaven, over the impetuous, brawling Weber river. Close to the Mormon town of Echo there is a cliff 1,000 feet high, which _overhangs its base_ fifty feet. There is also a rock known as “The Sphinx of the Valley,” from a resemblance to the original. Weber Cañon succeeds the first‐named, and in this is to be noted a remarkable and nearly perpendicular cleft in the cliff—well known as “The Devil’s Slide.” Further on, and the train arrives at “The Devil’s Gate,” where the stern rock‐walls narrow, and the dark hills approach each other closely. Here the river becomes a boiling and furious rapid, white with foam, hurrying onward with terrible impetuosity, and rolling _tons_ of boulders before its resistless course. Some of the early railway bridges were quite washed away by it, and many difficulties were met in the construction of the line, heavy tunneling almost obviously having been necessary in some places. But all obstacles were successfully overcome. Emerging from the gloomy, rugged cañon, the more or less fertile and cultivated Weber valley is, by contrast, a perfect glimpse of Paradise.